Building Faith That Fits: For First Responders Who’ve Seen Too Much
I see it often in my therapy practice... Many First Responders struggle with their faith after trauma.
Let’s be honest—most first responders I know don’t lose faith because they drifted away from Sunday school. They lose it because they’ve seen too much. Too much blood, too much chaos, too much senseless loss to reconcile with the idea that “everything happens for a reason.” I’ve been there too—on the kitchen floor at 2 a.m., trying to stitch together some kind of hope.
If you’ve stopped believing in the faith you were handed but still need something to hold onto, this is for you. Your faith doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s. It doesn’t have to be formal, polished, or even recognizable. It just has to keep you going.
When the Faith You Were Given Stops Working
For a lot of first responders, faith doesn’t just fade—it shatters.
Not because you don’t care. Not because you’re rebellious. But because you’ve seen too much. The child you couldn’t save. The friend you lost in the line of duty. The scenes that replay in your mind when the rest of the world is asleep.
It’s hard to believe “everything happens for a reason” when you’ve watched life at its most unfair. And when the version of God or faith you were given doesn’t make sense anymore, it can feel like you’ve been cut loose with nothing to hold onto.
Faith Doesn’t Have to Look Like Anyone Else’s
Here’s the truth: your faith doesn’t have to match your childhood, your parents, your church, or anybody else’s expectations. It doesn’t have to be formal, polished, or written in a book.
Faith can be built because of the friend who answers your call at 3 a.m. Faith can be the quiet moment in your truck before a shift, asking for the strength to get through one more day. Faith can be messy, unconventional, and built from the ground up—stitched together from the people, moments, and truths that keep you going.
Meeting Faith on the Kitchen Floor at 2 A.M.
I’ve been there—the middle of the night, when everything feels like it’s falling apart and you need something to hold onto. That’s where I built my own “Build-A-Bear” faith. No lightning bolts. No choirs of angels. Just a higher power that doesn’t get surprised by my mistakes, doesn’t get disappointed in me, and never walks away when I’m in the thick of it.
If your faith is stitched with hope, laced with humor, or even a little rough around the edges, it still counts. You don’t need permission for it to be yours.
Why This Matters for First Responders
If you’ve stopped believing in the plan but you still want to believe in something—anything—this is your reminder: faith can be rebuilt. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be strong enough to get you through the next storm.
Listen to the full episode to hear my story, and maybe start sewing together your own.
https://www.afterthetonesdrop.co/solocast-faith-you-build
Cinnamon
Host
Cinnamon has spent over 25 years in the trenches of trauma work—but for the last eight, she’s been all-in with one mission: making sure the people who run toward chaos have somewhere to land when the dust settles.
She’s a trauma therapist, a trainer, and a national speaker on first responder mental health. From firehouses to squad rooms to conference stages, she shows up with honesty, respect, and the tools to help responders move from surviving to actually living.
And here? She’s your host.
After the Tones Drop is her raw, unfiltered podcast built for the first responder community. Because staying alive isn’t enough. Her work is about reclaiming life—on your terms.
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